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“I never saw you as the fatherly type, Toms,” Wilbur says, eyeing Tommy up and down from outside as the boy stood in the doorway. The most interesting part of the image before Wilbur was not the apron Tommy was wearing or the hairband he was using to keep his frankly too long hair out of his face but the young spider hybrid who was crushing a banana through his pincers.
“Wil-“ Tommy pauses, looking down at the hybrid on his hip.
“Come on Toms, I’m not Sapnap, I don’t kill pets or whatever it-“
“He’s not a pet, dickhead,” Tommy spite out. “And he is not an ‘it’, asshole.” There’s silence between the brothers for a moment before Wilbur cleared his throat.
“Right, okay. He then, or they?”
“Either. Whatever, what do you want?” Tommy snapped, switching the child to his other hip before pulling out a tissue to wipe off his face, pincers and his hands. Wilbur took a moment to look at the child. His skin was dark on his arms and legs but his face and neck seemed to be splotchy with different shades of of black. They had eight eyes, two where human presenting people’s eyes were, which were pitch black, and six more around his temple and forehead that were all red. The most non-human trait was definitely the pincers and the thin black limbs that purtruded from his back.
“Can’t I visit my little brother?” Tommy rolled his eyes, not looking up from cleaning the child up. “I’m glad I did, I’m an uncle. You know you could always come and talk to me-“
“Yeah, cause you’ll have good advice,” Tommy said sarcastically. “How’s your relationship with Fundy again?” Wilbur was silent. “Honestly, I’d be better asking Phil than you!”
“Phil’s a good dad,” Wilbur defended.
“Yeah, and that wound in your chest proves it? The years of abandonment and destroying everything right in front of me proves he must be a good dad, yeah? Cop on Wilbur.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “Thought you were the smart one.”
“That’s Techno.”
“What do you want, Wilbur?”
“Can’t I just-“
“No. You can’t. Cause you never do. You want something.”
“Do you really think so little of me? After everything?”
“I think you’ll find, Wilbur that when it comes to you, I don’t think about you at all.” There was a sharp thrill from the child in Tommy’s arks and it caught both of their attentions. “Shroud. Whats wrong?” The child made some messy movement with his hands that took Wilbur a second to realise was sign language. “Water?” He moved his head in some form of a nod which Tommy seemed to understand as he began to turn around before freezing. “Oh, whatever. Come in. I’d rather be sitting when you eventually tell my why you’re here.” Tommy moved away from the door, disappearing into his side room as Wilbur closed the door. “Come in here!” Wilbur moved to the door. It appeared the wood wasn’t the only thing Tommy had changed.
“Cleaned up in here at last huh,” Wilbur said, looking around. He seemed to have gutted most of the god awful smooth stone, instead replacing the floors with carpet and the walls painted a clean white. His bed still sat off the side, but it now had a small play pen beside it and a small race car bed beside it.
“Technically, I couldn’t change it while L’Manburg was still a thing,” Tommy said. “Since it was the embassy. It was sorta fucking illegal.”
“Who made that rule?”
“You.” Silence over took them again as Tommy grabbed a sippy cup and filled it with water and handed it to Shroud.
“So Shroud? Like after the-“
“Yes, after Shroud. Why are you here, Wilbur? What? Need help keep the van up? The tire pop?”
“You sound jealous.”
“Of what? Ranboo? Yeah because there’s nothing more excited that falling back into your clutches!” Tommy said sarcastically. “Also what are you doing with Ranboo? God bored of me and Tubbo? Need another kid to adore you and follow everything you say blindly? Is he your brother too?”
“Phil asked me to talk to him.”
“Oh, of course! Because his son Wilbur would never hurt the neighbour kid.” Wilbur snorts at that, which brings Tommy momentarily out of his temper to blink at him. “What, dickhead?”
“I called him the weird neighbour kid, as well.” A hint of a grin takes over Tommy’s face but its short lived. “There’s the Tommy I know. Can’t resist a good joke.”
“Shut up, Wil,” Tommy says. Wilbur doesn’t let the smile of Tommy calling him ‘Wil’ instead of ‘Wilbur’ show. “Seriously though, just… leave Ranboo out of it. He’s too easily swayed already. And you’re… charismatic.”
“Aw Tommy,” Wilbur says, his voice going high. “Always so loyal. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have any ill-intentions towards Ranboo.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Tommy said, taking the sippy cup off of Shroud before leaning down to pick them up.
“How old is Shroud?”
“Not a clue. Ponk suggests maybe five but I think it’s closer to three.”
“Same age as Michael.”
“How do you-“
“He’s in Ghostbur’s memories.” Tommy pauses as sorrow crosses over his face. “Oh yeah, forgot you were close to Ghostbur.” Tommy glares at him before sighing.
“What do you-“
“Why can’t I just come by? You keep thinking I’ve got some… ulterior motive. Why can’t I just come by.”
“Because you don’t! You don’t just ‘Come by’! Maybe to Phil, or Techno, maybe even Tubbo. Never me.”
“So you are jealous?”
“No, I’m tired of keeping up this charade of me trying to help you and you only leaning into it when you can get something from it. I’ve always called you my brother but you’ve only called me yours when it suits you. When it gets you something!” Tommy takes a breath before his shoulders sag and the fight leaves him.
“You are my brother.”
“Yeah, sure, now. What about in an hour when I’m useless. Or when you’re annoyed? Or angry?”
“Look, I know, Tommy. I know I sucked. I know it looked like I used you. Like I used everyone. But I did care.” Tommy scoffs. “I did. Why don’t you believe me? Look I know I was bad in Pogtopia but-“
“Do you know I got you letter?” Wilbur goes quiet, confused. “You remember that? You left me a letter?” Wilbur sucks in a breath, half unsure on where Tommy’s going but knowing it won’t end well. “I though you were sober. Thought you were better. You told me you were going to get better.” Tommy adjust Shroud on his hip, bring his head up to his neck, where his bandana was and the kid pulled the already torn cloth into his mouth. “Things were good in my life. Pogtopia had enough food for once and enough people and I was thinking ‘we can do this. We can actually do this’.” Tommy moves to the counter, picking up a pacifier and giving it to Shroud, who quickly took it into their mouth. “And then I woke up one morning, and there was a letter on my bedside locker. Tubbo was still asleep beside me, you know it was the first night he slept all the way through since the festival?”
“Look, Toms, I wasn’t in-“
“Your tone was happy in the letter. You sounded happy. Or lightly sardonic. Or glibly nihilistic. Or however you described that emotion that was the closest thing to happiness you could get back then.”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ Wilbur began but Tommy cut him off again, adjusting Shroud again as his hands began shaking. Wilbur reached forward, to stabilising them but Tommy moved away, tears in his eyes as he used the other hand to pull of the headband.
“You were clearly drunk or high or on whatever you could get your hands on, because your writing was awful and shaky and it reeked of lighter fluids and gun powder,” Tommy said, voice erring on the side of erratic. “And you were talking about L’Manburg. About TNT. ‘I’m gonna blow it all up’ you said, ‘I’m gonna destroy it’.” Tommy took a breath and Wilbur felt the dread wash over him. “‘Since nothing matters anyway,’ you had said. ‘And nobody cares about me, I might as well destroy it, right?’”
“Tommy, I am so-“
“‘Come find me, if you don’t want me to blow it and myself up’,” Tommy all but shouted. “‘Otherwise’, you continued, ‘I’m just going to assume you don’t care’!” A silence fell over them as Wilbur watched Tommy scrub his face. “I thought you were dead, Wilbur. For a single, heartbreaking moment I thought I was too late.” Tommy took a shaky breath. “I rang everybody. Quackity, Techno, Niki, everyone. Woke Tubbo up with my screaming and crying. Do you know I called Schlatt. The man who the night before I was planning his down fall. He laughed and hung. I sent everyone out looking for you.”
“Tommy-“
“I’m not done yet,” Tommy snapped back, dangerously low. “You turned up, of course. High or drunk as a kite, reeking on gun powder. You didn’t even know you’d sent it. Bet you still didn’t.”
“I didn’t.”
“Course not, wanna know why?” Wilbur paused before nodding hesitatingly. “Cause I didn’t fucking tell you. Cause I was a kid way in over their fucking head trying to people please my way through a rebellion or revolution or whatever the fuck Pogtopia was.” Tommy put Shroud down on the counter, leaning over his heavily and resting his head on the child’s thick black hair.
“Tommy, I-“ Wilbur cuts himself off. “I didn’t-“
“Of course you didn’t.”
“I shouldn’t have done that to you,” Wilbur said.
“No,” Tommy agreed. “You shouldn’t have.” There was silence again, and Wilbur knew it wasn’t his place yo break it. There was no joke or witty comment that could even begin to fix it. “I should give uo on you. Tubbo has. Techno practically has. Niki has. Jack too. Heaven knows Fundy’s fucking burnt that bridge. Phil only doesn’t cause he wasn’t here.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I remember you. When I was eight and Fundy was 12. You were my hero,” He said. “You were the closest thing to a father or a brother I ever had and part of me believes, somewhere, deep, deep down, the person who I knew is still there. Maybe a little rough and insane but there. Better than whoever is standning in front of me.”
“I was your hero?”
“Thats what you chose to focus on?”
“You literally bit me when we first met.” Tommy let out a wet chuckle, shoulders shaking.
“You scared me.” His voice is thick and Wilbur knows he’s silently crying.
“I stopped drinking. Smoking, drugs everything. 13 years in the afterlife… after you came, I stopped.”
“I wish I believed you.”
“I know.”
“Is he dead?” Tommy asks. “The Wilbur who raised me? The Wilbur was Fundy’s dad? Hell, I’d take the early L’Manburg version of you.”
“I don’t know,” Wilbur admits. “I don’t know if he’s dead. I hope not. I don’t want him to be.” Tommy sighs.
“Therapy. Puffy offers therapy. She’ll help anyone. She helped the Eggpire after we got rid of the egg so she’ll help you.” Tommy stood up straight, picking up a tissue and wiling down his face before throwing out the tissue. “You’re not allowed to just come by here. I mean it. You message me or call me before and I’ll decide if you can come over. I don’t want you around Shroud until I know your getting help.”
“Thats fair.”
“I’m not-“ Tommy paused, picking up Shroud and placing him in his hip before turning around. “I’m not done,” he says, softer now. “Get help. I mean it. You have to want it. And when your better go to the others. Remember they don’t owe you forgiveness.”
“I’m scared of not getting forgiveness.” Wilbur admits.
“Thats something you have to prepare for anyway,” Tommy said. “You’ll have Phil, at least. Probably Techno, though fuck what he thinks. And-“ Tommy looks down at Shroud, who looks back at him. “And me. To a point. They’ll be boundaries.”
“I know.”
“And its not a three-strike system. Its one. You get one more chance Wil, I’m not strong enough for endless chances anymore.”
“I appreciate it.” Tommy nods. Shroud fusses up, making clicking sounds and moving his hands.
“Alright, fine, we’ll go to Snowchester, you lump. We’ll see Michael.” They moved their hands again, fumbling for a few moments but Tommy seemed yo be following. “Yeah this is… Uncle Wilbur. Uncle Wilbur used to be lame but now he’s… getting better.”
“Why don’t you sign back to him?”
“He struggles to speak with the pincers, the bother him so Tubbo and I taught him sign language.”
“Who taught you two?”
“Techno taught me basic stuff but Ranboo mostly. Michael knows too.” Wilbur nods. “I mean what I said. You can be an uncle. When you get help.”
“When did you get so smart Wilbur asks.
“Had a good role model for a while.” Tommy adjusts Shroud again. “But anyway, uh-“
“I’ll go.” Wilbur moves towards the door. “I’ll call if I wanna come.”
“Or message.”
“Promise to get the hint if you ignore me.” Tommy chuckled. “I’ll see you around Toms.”
“Hopefully at therapy,” Tommy jokes and its Wilbur’s turn to chuckle.
“Bye Tommy, bye-bye Shroud.”
“Bye Wil.”